Grace
by vts
Summary: A simple question regarding dancing in Egypt leads to something that Anzu never expected. [IsisAnzu shoujoai]


**A/N: **Originally written for a LJ community under the themes "Egypt" and "Naked". I posted this because there is a severe lack of IsisAnzu on this site, which makes me quite sad because it's my favorite shoujo-ai pairing. Onwards!

**Warnings: **Nudity and slight yuri overtones. I probably rated this too high.

* * *

"You'll be mature about this, correct?" 

Anzu nodded mutely.

When she had asked Isis about dancing in Egypt, she never really had expected a response so drastic. She would tell her a few things and leave it at that, changing the subject to something else. But Isis had given her a smile, taking her hand and asking where and when they could meet. Anzu should have caught the connotation in her voice that they would be alone for a reason, but she never had this in mind.

The dance studio was empty, with only the two girls and a dim light bouncing off the wooden floor. Anzu stood against the railing, dressed in a black leotard, tights, and socks, gripping the railing with both hands and mentally telling herself to pay as much attention as possible. Both eyes were locked on Isis, standing in the room's center, donning her usual museum attire of an off-white dress without shoulders. Her sandals lay abandoned beneath the railing -- they were really quite unnecessary.

"But I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Isis replied, a hint of a smirk on her face as the dress slipped downward.

Though she promised herself that she wouldn't, Anzu couldn't help but stare. Once the underwear was off, Isis wore only a belt consisting of beads and shells strung together, contrasting sharply against her bronzed, smooth skin. A hint of a blush crossed her face as the Egyptian woman began swaying, slowly at first, but then picking up speed. The girl had never pinned Isis down as a dancer, but in retrospect, how could she not have when she had such grace? She twirled, arms alternating from being spread outward to connecting over her head, long hair shaking violently to the silent rhythm of her own song. Soon, Anzu was not staring because of the bareness, but out of awe.

"You know," Anzu started with a nervous smile, "you could have just taught me how to belly-dance."

"But that's not nearly as exciting as this, nor as challenging," Isis managed to reply, words broken by the constant movement and need for breath. She arched backwards, landing on the floor with her hands. Her black locks brushed the floor for an instant before she sprung back up with ease, arms outstretched towards the other girl as if it was an offering.

She took a step forward; a hand twitched as if she was going to accept the invitation. "So, why _are_ you...erm..."

"Because they'll just get in the way." Something twinkled in Isis' eyes, and Anzu was surprised at the coyness.

"But can't you just wear...?"

"You asked me to provide you with the most authentic experience possible. I complied. Dancers in ancient Egypt weren't as conservative as societies today like to mold them. Nudity did not have the same taboo that it carries today. But even so, I thought that the shame was limited to only _some_ cultures. "

"No -- I mean, it's fine!" Anzu replied. "I just didn't know that...well..." And she looked Isis up and down, taking every inch of her skin in before noticing that Isis knew.

"Anzu," Isis said softly, "I'm your teacher, and you're my student. Are you questioning my methods?"

Anzu shook her head.

A smile crossed her face. "Rest assured, you'll be the only one who sees me like this." Her hand beckoned.

A blush that she thought she had successfully repressed came back full-force, and her heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, she accepted, and Isis pulled her into a split-second embrace before breaking it. They moved together, Isis guiding her, telling her about the different dances and their reasons all while Anzu listened intently. At first, she was a bit unsettled by the blatant contact, but her inhibition faded. All discomfort withered away; she was free to think, free to learn, alive. It didn't take long for her to pick up the rhythm that Isis was teaching, and they danced to their own private song. The sense of trust was overwhelming.

The dance slowed and eventually dissipated, and Anzu eventually broke away.

"Pair dances were only formed with two men or two women, never one of each," Isis stated, savoring the last bit of warmth before it left her.

"So you've said," Anzu breathed, silently cursing herself for getting out-of-shape.

Isis glanced at the clock. "I think we have time for one more thing. Show me what you've learned."

She grinned. "Certainly, Isis-sensei," Anzu joked, beginning to slip off her leotard. "And next week, I think I'll teach you how _we_ dance."

"I'll enjoy that."


End file.
